The Joker and Her
by Miss La Push
Summary: hey dont bash my story. thanks! I DO NOT OWN THE JOKER OR BATMAN...sadly


I opened the door and sauntered out. I sped away, hoping to keep the Joker behind me. If he wasn't going to let me go then I wasn't going to make this situation easy for the jackass.

"Hey." The Joker said as he grabbed my arm. I yanked it away and he growled, "Your being ridiculous."

"Me?" I shrieked. "Me? I'm not the psychopathic mass murdering clown here!"  
"No need for name calling."

"Can you blame me? For what has happened to me? Can you?"

The Joker stared in my eyes and I saw him pondering my question. Then he grabbed my waist and hissed, "C'mon we can't be late."  
"Where are we going?"

"Were going out to dinner my sweet. I want to get to know you."  
"I certainly don't want to get to know _you_."  
"And you think _I'm _mean?"  
"Whatever."

"Ah, don't be like that. I might just have to carve a little smile on your beautiful face."  
"You wouldn't dare—"  
"Don't test me."

I crossed my arms and let the Joker lead me away. We stopped in front of an alleyway and at the end of it I saw a bar. I hoped we weren't going in there. I hate clubs and bars.

"C'mon beautiful."

"No." I hissed. I pulled my arms away from the Joker and crossed them over my chest.

"What are you doing?" The Joker asked me.

"I hate clubs."

"You don't have to dance." The Joker told me. That surprised me. I expected him to pull out a gun and shoot me for disobeying him or something.

"You won't make me?" I asked him.

"Rose, if you don't want to dance I wont make you." He growled as he continued into the club. I touched my bruised cheek [a reminder that he really did punch me yesterday] and followed him. Sure, I could have run away but that wouldn't accomplish anything. He would just find me again. And he might not be so…lenient. And he would probably be angry at me. Which is never a good thing with the Joker.

So I walked into the club. Once I entered I felt drunk men staring at me and I saw ladies dancing on tables, shots in their hands. So this was what clubbing looked like. I had never been invited to a club like this, even if it was illegal. I was never a bad girl. I did as I was told and never questioned it. I looked ahead of me and saw the Joker, or Jack, dancing with a beautiful lady. She probably had no idea that she was grinding against Gotham's worst fear. But really, he didn't even look like the Joker. Just a man with a beautifully jacked up face. He was truly handsome. I had to stop thinking about him.

"Hey."

I turned around and saw a bulky man staring at me—or more accurately, at my chest. This dress didn't cover much. You could practically see my butt and my boobs were spilling out. But somehow I didn't look trashy. I guess it's a good thing that my boobs aren't that big.

"Wanna dance pretty—" He started to say. Suddenly I was being grabbed and pulled back.

"What the—" I started. But I was instantly hushed when soft lips crashed onto my dry lips. I pulled away after I opened my eyes and saw whom I was kissing. The Joker.

"What do you think your doing?" I screeched.

"Having fun. Something you're _not_ doing."

"Don't you dare kiss me!" I hissed in his ear as I tried to yank myself away from his grip. He started to laugh, that menacing laugh that made me cringe, and then he pulled out a knife. I looked around; no one was paying any attention to us. He could slit my throat and no one would notice for a while.

"Now—are you going to be a good girl?" He asked me. I clamped my mouth shut and just started into his eyes. They were so cold and dead. So black and endless.

He grabbed my jaw and shoved the knife in my mouth, but he didn't do anything. I trembled and said, "Just take me back."  
"Take you back where? The hideout?"

"Yes—I'm tired."  
The Joker sighed and I thought he was going to end my life right there. He so easily could have. But all he did was pat my head like someone would do to a dog. Then he took the knife out and let me go. I started to head towards the door and once I was out of the club I sighed. I was out. the Joker had actually listened to me!

"C'mon toots, let's go." The Joker told me as he came out of the club a few seconds later. He grabbed my hand and we started walking back.

Once we got 'home' his mood changed. His eyes flashed and he slammed me into the wall and whispered harshly, "You owe me."

I bit my lip and nodded. I knew that. I should have expected that. The Joker wasn't going to give unless he got something in return. And I fear that he would want something very important to me in return.

That night was the first time the Joker had kissed me. He violated me and I had a new found hatred towards him. And he knew it.

"Can I go to bed?" I asked, my eyes already drooping down. I was beat and I had no clue how much longer I would be able to keep my head up and talk.

The Joker growled, "No. Stay with me."

Then he grabbed my waist and swung me up so I was resting in his arms; bridal style. He walked into the kitchen. He set me down on the island and turned on the little white TV in the corner by the small toaster. The news blasted on full volume and I tried to stay awake.

I felt my eyes start to droop and I was slapped. It stung and I should have expected it but it still hurt. I didn't think he would still be slapping me and treating me like a child. Well, technically I was nineteen, so I was still a child. But that didn't give him the right to hit me and degrade me. Jerk.

"What are you thinking about?"

I looked up and saw the Joker looking at me.

"Nothing."I hissed. I looked away from him and stared at the TV.

"Rosalie." I looked up again. The Joker rarely used my full name.

"Yes?"

"Lighten up. Or—you'll wake up tomorrow with a smile carved on your face."

I felt the tears crowd up my eyes. Why did he always make em feel sad, scared? He made me feel bad. I hated him for that.

At least--that's what i told myself.

*good? bad? messages are welcome! you can tell me the truth....just dont be too mean!*


End file.
